


Slow

by YlvaUllsdotter



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2019 [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 18+, Appreciation of Dean's freckles, Dean x Reader, F/M, Handholding, NSFW, One-Shot, Reader Insert, SPN - Freeform, Smut, Smut Shot, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2019, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 09:12:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18312608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YlvaUllsdotter/pseuds/YlvaUllsdotter
Summary: There’s holding hands, and then there’s holding hands. You prefer your version. After this, so will Dean.





	Slow

**Author's Note:**

> Created for: [@spnkinkbingo](http://spnkinkbingo.tumblr.com/)  
> Square Filled: Handholding
> 
> I apologize for nothing.

Dean likes to hold your hand, and he will take any opportunity to do so. Not so much out in public, but during movie night, or under the table at a diner, definitely. His big hands will completely envelop yours and you can feel every callus from decades of handling weapons and tools. His fingers will gently squeeze yours while his thumb swipes over your skin, rubbing in soothing circles.

You like all of that, but there is another kind of holding hands that you want to introduce Dean to. To that end, you plan ahead, getting the others out of the Bunker for the evening. You want Dean all to yourself for this.

With a tumbler of whiskey in your hands, you find Dean in his room. He is lying on top of the bed, fully dressed, headphones on. His face lights up when he sees you and you have to return his smile.

You straddle his hips and take a sip from the glass while Dean sets the headphones aside. When you offer it to him, he takes the glass and downs the rest of it before leaving it, empty, on the nightstand. His hands come to rest on your hips as he looks up at you, the smile on his lips sparkling in his green eyes.

When he starts to speak, you put a finger across his lips. He kisses the finger, and stays silent. Watching his face, you slip your hands beneath the fabric of his black t-shirt, brushing your fingertips along the waistband of his jeans. You feel his muscles tighten at the soft touch, and his lips part as he inhales sharply. 

Your hands caress his skin, which is surprisingly smooth and free of scars, thanks to Castiel’s healing. When your fingers slide along his sides, Dean flinches a little, his lips curving into a smile when your touch tickles him. Impatiently, you tug on the shirt, and he lifts his arms so you can pull it over his head. 

For a while, around his birthday, Dean felt self-conscious about his soft tummy, until you convinced him that you could not care less. In your eyes, he is perfect. 

With your fingertips barely touching his skin, you trace imagined lines between his freckles, drawing simple designs. Dean’s hands still have not moved from your hips, although you can feel him gripping you tightly to stop himself from reciprocating your touches. Leaning down, you replace your fingers with your tongue, tracing a path from freckle to freckle until you reach his left nipple. Looking up through your lashes, you see Dean watching you, his eyes dark with desire. 

You flick his nipple with your tongue, causing Dean’s hips to roll up against you, letting you know just how much he is enjoying everything you are doing. When you take the nipple between your teeth and tug on it, Dean’s head falls back on the pillow and a soft moan escapes his lips. With a smirk, you let go then give it a little nip before soothing the now hard little nub with a swipe of your tongue. Placing soft kisses across his chest, you find the other nipple and give it some attention as well. 

Dean fidgets beneath you, undoubtedly in some discomfort from his cock being too tightly confined. You roll your hips against him and he bucks his up in response, hissing a breath in through his teeth. You scoot back enough that you can undo his belt and start to get his pants off. He sighs in relief as his cock is freed. With one hand still on your thigh, his other goes to grip the base of his cock while he watches you. He moves just enough to help you get his clothes off. 

Standing at the foot of the bed, Dean’s eyes on you, you pull your shirt over your head and toss it aside. Turning around, you give Dean a smirk over your shoulder while you shimmy out of your jeans, leaving you in your underwear. You slip two fingers into the fabric of your panties, teasing Dean by pulling them down a little bit, then back up as if you were only adjusting them. 

His hand is lazily stroking his cock as he watches you. When you finally pull your panties down, while bending over at the same time, his free hand grabs at his balls and he groans at the sight. Turning back to him, you quickly discard your bra, and get back on the bed. You crawl up Dean’s body until you can straddle his thighs. Each of the slow, lazy, strokes of his cock brushes against your pussy, and he takes full advantage, making his knuckles catch on your clit with every upward stroke. 

You shiver from the pleasure racing through you, and brush his hand aside, then move both his arms up by his head. When you let go, he stays there, watching you. You feel his cock twitch where it rests, hot and heavy, against your skin. 

Moving up a little, you perfectly trap him against your pussy, your slick coating his length when you grind down on him. His face is a study in pleasure - eyes half-closed, lips parted on heavy panting breaths, skin flushed. A part of you could watch him like that all night, but the larger part wants to feel him inside you. Besides, you had a plan.

When you guide him inside you, your eyes are riveted on Dean’s face. His eyes closed now, he is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. 

You brace yourself with your hands flat on his chest while you roll your hips to feel every inch of him inside you. Finding the right angle, you slide your hands on his skin, moving from his chest and along his arms until you can twine your fingers with his.

In this new position, Dean’s lips are right there, and you capture them with your own, your tongue licking lazily into his mouth, tasting him, swallowing the moan that escapes him when you start to slowly move on his cock.

Pulling away, you look into his eyes as you move, the slow pace, along with holding his hands the way you are, makes it feel so much more intimate. Your name leaves his lips as no more than a breath, and his hips move to meet yours. 

The slow drag of his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy is not enough, and you start to ride him harder. Sitting up for more leverage, you pull his arms up between you, your hands still locked together. You are so close now, his cock hitting just the right spot inside you with each thrust. 

Dean’s head is thrown back, pressed into the pillow. His eyes are closed tightly, and he is panting with need, his fingers clenching around yours. The sight, and sound, of him is enough to push your over the edge.

You body tenses above him, and you stop breathing for a moment, when it all comes crashing down on you. Before you have time to catch your breath, Dean has rolled you both over and is thrusting into you hard and fast, chasing his own high.

He has let go of your hands, instead slipping his under you to grip your shoulders as he drives into you over and over. With each thrust, his pelvis grinds against your sensitive clit, pushing you toward another orgasm. 

Dean’s panting breath right by your ear, punctuated by deep rumbling groans, makes you tingle all over. In moments, you are there, your pussy clenching around his cock still thrusting into you. You gasp his name and he shudders, gripping you tighter as he pumps into you twice more, as if he wants to go deeper. Then he cries out, filling you up with his come.

His face buried in the crook of your neck, his breath hot on your sweaty skin, you feel him scrabble for your hand. When he finds it, he twines his fingers with yours again, squeezing gently for reassurance. Whether for you or himself is unclear, but the action itself makes your heart expand until it feels like it is going to pop right out of your chest. This is exactly your kind of handholding.

**Author's Note:**

> This took me three weeks to write. I'm still not happy with it. Not going to apologize for it, but I could have done better.


End file.
